“Nachos?” Daniel looked toward me, holding a menu in the air. “They’re not as American as pie, but they’re good.”
“They are an American favorite. By the way, where’s the accent from?” The question flowed so easily from my mouth. Although I probably should have asked earlier.
“Scotland,” he answered too quickly, and I imagined a juicy story he’d only tell me in the days to come. It would be our secret…
But then I saw him smile at the server and knew his flirting was exactly that—flirting.
Sella stood behind me and said, “I think I feel a headache coming on. I’ll see you at home,” just as the nachos arrived.
Of course the wench didn’t even give me a chance to argue. She’d gone and hurried out of there before I could turn around.
“Looks like it’s up to us to finish the nachos and win this game.” He stood and held out his arm, waiting for me to take another turn. “How about trying this one?” He pulled out a smaller club.
I didn’t know which one it was, but he guided me to the tee area and positioned himself behind me. And it might as well have been a hockey stick—as long as he stayed where he was, I would swing anything.
My ball soared across the green and Daniel mumbled, “There you go,” in my ear.
“What do I win?” I spun around, catching a broad smile on his face.
“A nacho!” He strode to the table and plucked a cheese-covered chip. “Open up,” he said, and I did.
He fed me the chip and it was the single most erotic moment of my life. Pathetic that it was happening at pretend golf, in a pair of jeans and granny panties, but it was. “Mmm,” I heard myself humming.
“They are pretty good.” He swiped his thumb under my lip and then proceeded to suck on it.
For a brief moment I forgot we were in public as my hormones went haywire. The urge to get close and—I didn’t know, dry hump this guy?—fizzled up my spine. Luckily, by the time it hit my brain, my intelligence sank in and prevented the act.
“Scotland? This place had to be a change for you.” I quickly moved the chatter back to the mundane.
He nodded. “The summer was like torture in the beginning, but now I miss the heat if I go home. Brutus stays inside in the air-conditioning in the summer though, and he doesn’t like when I go to Scotland. Kennel, ya know?”
“Aw, poor guy.”
“He’ll survive…”
Our next few turns passed in this type of easy banter and without any more illicit thumb sucking. I found myself unusually drawn to Daniel, who was far from my type, or my league.
I was caught in my self-loathing right up until the Alphas came onto the loudspeaker declaring the golf team the winners—which they did without Daniel—and yelling about how much money they raised. The event was declared a huge success, and everyone was instructed to eat and drink some more.
Looking at our empty plate and glasses, Daniel turned his gaze to me. “Want to come meet Brutus?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Is that the best you can do?” This was less confident than it sounded and more about self-preservation.
He laughed. It was deep and guttural and hit me in the core. “I usually wait until the third date to introduce him…”
This had me laughing. The sparkle in his eye was a dead giveaway when he was joking.
Still chuckling, he gathered me close, his arm around my waist, and whispered, “I promise to be a gentleman, but as for Brutus, I can’t make any promises.”
“He’s excused,” I whispered, wanting Daniel to be less of a gentleman, but I couldn’t even believe I wanted to leave with him. I never got to leave with the hot, cool guy. Not smart Wren. For whatever reason, I needed this experience.
“Come on,” he said. “Hey guys, see you in the morning,” he hollered to his teammates.
A rash of whistles and “Danny-boys” trailed behind us as Daniel led me out, his hand on my lower back. Only his fingertips grazed the area, but I could feel tingles everywhere.
“Do this often?” I couldn’t help myself.
“Never.”
